Job 16
1 Så tog Job til Orde og svarede:
Then Job answered and said:
2 "Nok har jeg hørt af sligt, besværlige Trøstere er I til Hobe!
I have heard many such things; sorry comforters are ye all.
3 Får Mundsvejret aldrig Ende? Hvad ægged dig dog til at svare?
Shall windy words have an end? Or what provoketh thee that thou answerest?
4 Også jeg kunde tale som I, hvis I kun var i mit Sted, føje mine Ord imod jer og ryste på Hovedet ad jer,
I also could speak as ye do; if your soul were in my soul's stead, I could join words together against you, and shake my head at you.
5 styrke jer med min Mund, ej spare på ynksomme Ord!
I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips would assuage your grief.
6 Taler jeg, mildnes min Smerte ikke og om jeg tier, hvad Lindring får jeg?
Though I speak, my pain is not assuaged; and though I forbear, what am I eased?
7 Dog nu har han udtømt min Kraft, du bar ødelagt hele min Kreds;
But now He hath made me weary; Thou hast made desolate all my company.
8 at du greb mig, gælder som Vidnesbyrd mod mig, min Magerhed vidner imod mig.
And Thou hast shrivelled me up, which is a witness against me; and my leanness riseth up against me, it testifieth to my face.
9 Hans Vrede river og slider i mig, han skærer Tænder imod mig. Fjenderne hvæsser Blikket imod mig,
He hath torn me in His wrath, and hated me; He hath gnashed upon me with His teeth; mine adversary sharpeneth his eyes upon me.
10 de opspiler Gabet imod mig, slår mig med Hån på Kind og flokkes til Hobe omkring mig;
They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek scornfully; they gather themselves together against me.
11 Gud gav mig hen i Niddingers Vold, i gudløses Hænder kasted han mig.
God delivereth me to the ungodly, and casteth me into the hands of the wicked.
12 Jeg leved i Fred, så knuste han mig, han greb mig i Nakken og sønderslog mig; han stilled mig op som Skive,
I was at ease, and He broke me asunder; yea, He hath taken me by the neck, and dashed me to pieces; He hath also set me up for His mark.
13 hans Pile flyver omkring mig, han borer i Nyrerne uden Skånsel, udgyder min Galde på Jorden;
His archers compass me round about, He cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; He poureth out my gall upon the ground.
14 Revne på Revne slår han mig, stormer som Kriger imod mig.
He breaketh me with breach upon breach; He runneth upon me like a giant.
15 Over min Hud har jeg syet Sæk og boret mit Horn i Støvel;
I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and have laid my horn in the dust.
16 mit Ansigt er rødt af Gråd, mine Øjenlåg hyllet i Mørke,
My face is reddened with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17 skønt der ikke er Vold i min Hånd, og skønt min Bøn er ren!
Although there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.
18 Dølg ikke, Jord, mit Blod, mit Skrig komme ikke til Hvile!
O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no resting-place.
19 Alt nu er mit Vidne i Himlen, min Talsmand er i det høje;
Even now, behold, my Witness is in heaven, and He that testifieth of me is on high.
20 gid min Ven lod sig finde! Mit Øje vender sig med Tårer til Gud,
Mine inward thoughts are my intercessors, mine eye poureth out tears unto God;
21 at han skifter Ret mellem Manden og Gud, mellem Mennesket og hans Ven!
That He would set aright a man contending with God, as a son of man setteth aright his neighbour!
22 Thi talte er de kommende År, jeg skal ud på en Færd, jeg ej vender hjem fra.
For the years that are few are coming on, and I shall go the way whence I shall not return.
